Goraku
by Apapazukamori
Summary: Weiß is given a mission they are not allowed to refuse.
1. Prologue

**Goraku**

**Setting:** Between episodes 11 and 12 of _Kontakt_   
**Notice:** AU, abuse, dark, death, torture, violence 

//. . .// - flashbacks   
==. . .== - typing/email/words on a screen   
~. . .~ - written words 

**Prologue**

The redheaded woman sat alone in her unlit apartment, staring at the television that choked out static as her video recorder rewound shrilly, scolding her for letting the tape run until the very end. 

Her breath hitched in her throat as she clutched shaking hands together, trying to reconcile what she had seen with the world around her. She couldn't, it was too horrible. The world was far from a wonderful place, at times it rivaled one of the Seven Hells, but she could not believe something so sinister would be allowed, even among the deepest pit. Was nothing beyond reach? 

Beside her, her cellular phone began to ring, the midi-esque strands of "Ode to Joy" startling her into sliding off the cushion of the black leather couch. Taking a deep breath, she turned it on. "Hello?" 

"Hanae-chan, are you all right?" 

Kitada Hanae shook her head forcefully. "Absolutely not." Her voice trembled, and she was furious at it. She had more control than this. 

"You watched the tape, didn't you?" The gentle, lilting pitch of her best friend's voice sharpened with concern. "Dammit, I told you to wait for me." 

Hanae shook her head, angrily rubbing at her eyes. "I thought I could handle it, Kyoko." She said quietly. "I had no idea…." 

On the other end of the line, Takaoka Kyoko sighed. "I'll be home in a minute." 

"All right, I'll wait up." Hanae turned off the phone before uttering a farewell, and tossed the tiny electric device across the couch to the farthest cushion. Slipping off her smartly shined patent leather heels, she curled up against the couch's arm, folding her stockinged feet under her. 

The lights remained off, she didn't want to see the rest of the world just yet. In the dim light provided by the white noise coming from the television, she noticed the black stains her mascara left on her fingers. She stared at it, momentarily fascinated. In the dark, who could tell it from any other liquid? 

- - - - - 

"I want you to know that I was against giving you this mission, but Persia-sama insisted." Manx bit out, her tone clipped. 

"Is it that bad, Manx-san?" Omi asked, wide eyed. Persia's secretary was paler than he could ever remember seeing her and all the make up in the world couldn't hide the bloodshot in her vibrant green eyes. 

Ken shifted in the couch. "If our targets are that awful, then we should take it!" He said forcefully. "Before someone else gets hurt." 

Manx shook her head. "I wouldn't be so eager, Ken." She held up a black, unlabeled video tape. "I have a little movie to show you. After that, you will receive your orders." She slid the tape into the player and waited for it to cue. She eyed all four of them in turn. Ken and Omi on the couch, watching her intently, Yohji sprawled in the armchair, Aya silently watching by the wall. She hoped they were up to what Kritiker demanded. "This is an infiltrate and destroy mission, and it cannot be turned down." 

Yohji waved a dismissive hand. "Stop the theatrics, Manx, and just play the mission tape." 

Manx's indulgent smile was bitter. "The theatrics are just beginning, Yohji." 

The tape began, and she dimmed the lights. Standing in the back of the viewing area, out of sight, she turned away as the screaming started. She could picture it in her mind: the young woman having sex with a masked man while a gun was pointed at her head. The tears, the look of panic on the girl's face as the man climaxed and then shot her in the stomach while he was still inside of her was etched in Manx's memory. 

The tape finished about seven minutes later, with the girl still screaming and pleading for help. The room beneath Koneko was absolutely silent. Manx walked stiffly to the light switch and faced the four exceptionally shaken men in front of her. 

"What," Yohji began, licking his dry lips. "What the hell was that?" 

"That was a short feature film from the Saoshin Production Company." Manx was amazed that her voice wasn't shaking. Perhaps she had cried it all out the night before when Birman had returned to their apartment and made her realize that nothing was beyond the reach of the dark beasts. "It sells for sixty-three thousand yen. 

"And it's one-hundred percent real." 

  


Weiß Kreuz is the property of Koyasu Takehito and Project Weiß. 


	2. Chapter One

**Goraku**

**Chapter One**

The Saoshin building was enormous. Forty stories of polished glass and steel shone in the afternoon sunlight, a modern day giant in size and just as powerful. Who would suspect that such a benign looking structure could be anything but? 

Behind his pair of borrowed sunglasses, Omi's wide eyes narrowed angrily, the absolutely disgusting film he'd seen earlier that day still running through his memory. He suspected that even when they destroyed Saoshin, the film would be forever in syndication within his own mind. 

He had been the only one of the four to be violently ill after watching it, after knowing it wasn't just some good special effects. He had found some comfort from Manx, who had taken him aside after he had stopped retching into the toilet and told him of the nightmare she'd been subjected to the night before. Returning to the group, there had been no ridicule, only shared horror. Even from Aya, who undoubtedly pictured his sister in that poor girl's place. 

Staring up at the deceptively innocuous building, Omi swore he'd see it fall. If he could manage it, he would set the charges himself. 

- - - - - 

For the fourth time that afternoon, Yohji expressed his absolute loathing in regards to the division of labor. Two to infiltrate, two to hang back as the emergency reserves. He did *not* want to be one of the idle ones, not if it meant that Omi would take his place. Beside him on the park bench, Aya's jaw clenched, molten violet eyes trained on the retreating backs of their two youngest members. To all their astonishment, the redhead had been as vocal as Yohji in his opposition to Ken and Omi being the moles. 

// Pulling four sheets of paper from her thin briefcase, Manx passed one to each of them. "That, gentlemen, is a little known film type called 'snuff.' Most law enforcement agencies do not consider it to exist, and it's been passed off as an urban myth in most countries." She raised a red eyebrow, face twisted by the irony. "Obviously, that is not the case. 

"As far as we know, Saoshin is the first company to be producing this type of film in Japan. They are sponsored by a company in Thailand, and are getting licensing from an unknown contact in MITI." 

"Shit." Yohji gripped the paper in white-knuckled hands. "Even if we get the company, they'll just bring someone else over." 

Manx folded her arms across her chest. "Which is why, Yohji, this is an infiltration mission. You need that the name of the contact in MITI, because he is your target as well." 

"And who is going to do the infiltrating?" 

Manx shot Ken a sympathetic look. "You and Omi." 

"No!" Both Yohji and Aya instantly interjected. 

"Aya, you stand out like a beacon and would be instantly identified. Plus, you are anti-social." Manx snapped. "And Yohji, by your own admission, you have no skill with electronics."// 

Manx's stinging retort still reverberated, almost drowning out the cries of the victim in the tape. Damn it if she wasn't right, though. But the makers of those films **killed** people. He didn't want either Omi or Ken put at that kind of risk. If something happened, he and Aya would never get there in time. 

Shit. It was like Riot all over again. 

Yohji bit down hard on his fifth cigarette in two hours, tearing through the paper and getting some of the bitter dried leaves and toxic chemicals into his mouth. Gagging, he spit out what he could. Just like Riot. Which time, asshole? Whose death hurt more, Asuka's or Maki's? 

He knew the answer. It was as plain and foul-tasting as the junk from the cigarette that he could not get out of his mouth no matter how hard he tried. Both of them hurt. Asuka's because he'd loved her so completely, and Maki's because she had made him relive Asuka's death all over again. 

But how bad would the pain be if he had to see her death through Ken? Or Omi for that matter? 

"This fucking bites." 

"That's the fifth time you've said that." Aya grit out, not looking at him. 

"Well, shit, Aya. Maybe I'll say it again, just to piss you off." 

"Don't waste your time." The redhead's voice was level and blank, like usual. But the rest of his body betrayed him. Fists clenched, eyes livid, he sat on the edge of the bench like a predator ready to spring. And in this case, the prey was any danger that dared show itself. 

If anything happened to either Omi or Ken, Aya swore he would see Saoshin pay dearly. It had almost startled him, the extent to which he had argued with Manx about the assignments. It was clear his behavior had surprised the others, since he rarely said two words during missions he willingly participated in. He argued so heavily because if someone was hurt, he wanted it to be him and no one else. 

Another injury on his conscience because of his impotence was the last thing he wanted. His sister was in a coma because he hadn't done anything. If he had to lose someone else important to him, there would be nothing left. 

He had nothing left to give over to another bittersweet memory. 

- - - - - 

"Where are we supposed to go, Omi?" Ken stared at the map in his hand and then glanced at the numbers on the doors they passed. None of them matched the ones on the map, and his head was beginning to ache. "This place is a damn maze. How do they find anything?" 

A young voice called out behind them, responding to Ken's loudly muttered comment. "If you know the company inside and out, then there's no problem." 

Both boys jumped, startled, and turned around to face a cherubic, raven-haired woman in a sharp suit. She smiled warmly at them. "You two must be the new applicants." 

"H-how could you tell?" Ken rubbed the back of his neck nervously and tried to refrain from loosening his tie. Damn thing was choking him and the black suit was too hot for the humid May weather. 

"Unless you were expected, there is no way you would have gotten past the first floor." She said brightly, with a wide smile that lit up her entire face, but which missed touching her eyes in the same manner. Ken gritted his teeth and laughed hollowly. 

"We're here to see Nakamura-san." Omi interjected, waving a small piece of paper. It was their contract, with all the correct, albeit forged, credentials that Kritiker had provided. 

_Systems technician,_ Ken thought warily. _Good lord._ His computer skills were rooted in a rudimentary working comprehension of networks and an unbeaten winning streak in his "Typing of the Dead" emulation. Ken had no idea how he was going to pass himself off as a network specialist, considering he was barely knowledgeable in the most basic of systems maintenance. Omi hadn't had time to teach him anything more than what he knew already. 

Hacking and information gathering were another matter, however. After the disastrous mission against Kourin Pharmaceuticals and Takatori Masafumi, it had become clear to Weiß that mission research could not revolve exclusively around Omi's schedule, and since neither Aya or Yohji had volunteered, the research detail had fallen to Ken, and after all was said and done, he couldn't exactly complain about having some kind of foothold that made him useful. 

As paranoid about the mission as he was, part of him gloated at being the one picked for the tough work as opposed to the muscle detail he was usually stuck with. This time around, he was more important than Yohji, or even Aya. Now he just had to make sure he didn't get killed before he could rub their noses in it. 

"Ah, Nakamura-san's office is right down that hall." The helpful yet intimidating woman pointed to her left, indicating a shallow, glass-walled skywalk that crossed over the opening in the middle of the building. On the roof of the twentieth floor was a grass-covered courtyard that the executives used for putting practice or just to get some air. Manx had gone over the entire schematic of the building with the four of them, telling all she knew about the company, which had been in business for over a half-century. 

Saoshin was a perfectly legitimate cover for the Thai snuff ring, in that it was a television commercial production company. They had only recently begun manufacturing the snuff films, prodded by a large 'compensation' payment and generous tax cut offers from MITI. It was sickening to think that a branch of government as powerful as the Ministry of International Trade and Industry was sponsoring the killing of others for fun and profit. 

"Thank you very much." Omi said politely, bowing nearly ninety-degrees at the waist to the woman. Ken took the cue and followed suit. The woman nodded and disappeared through a door, back to wherever she had come from. 

While walking through the skywalk, Omi loosened his tie. "That was the vice president of the company, Ken-kun." 

"Shit, you're serious." 

The blonde nodded. "She seemed suspicious, but I have a feeling she's suspicious of everyone. Nakamura is the one we have to convince." 

Ken shuddered. "I don't know if I can pull this off, Omi. I don't know half the stuff you do." 

"Daijoubu, Ken-kun." Omi laughed lightly before turning gravely serious. "Yohji could handle their network, so don't worry. You know more than enough to get us through this." 

Pausing at the large, imported oak door that towered in front of them, Ken straightened his jacket and smoothed his hair. "I so hope you're right, Omi." Winking at the younger boy, he knocked on the door. "Because if you're wrong, we're gonna end up with the top billing of his next feature." 

  


**Notes:**   
1. The snuff ring is based in Thailand because from what I could find on snuff films, Bangkok is the most likely place to find them. 

2. Snuff films are considered to be an offshoot of pornography by those not in the porn industry, and they're considered by those *in* the porn business to be a concoction created by those who are anti-porn. Most law enforcement have never been able to come up with evidence of snuff films, but we all know that doesn't necessarily mean they don't exist. 

3. MITI (Ministry of International Trade and Industry) is an actual ministry in Japan, one of the most powerful government offices. I figured that they would be the ones that Saoshin would have to go through in order to get permission to import and manufacture the films. Not that they really need to, there is the black market, but isn't it always better when you can be protected by the government? 

  


Weiß Kreuz is the property of Koyasu Takehito and Project Weiß. 


	3. Chapter Two

**Goraku**

**Chapter Two**

Infiltration, day two, was about as entertaining as the day before. Omi rested his head on the computer keyboard, taking an immature amount of pleasure at the nine-page repetition of the letter 'd' that was flooding his document in Word. Sleeping in his cubicle wasn't the most productive way to spend his time, however he could only check his email so many times in the span of an hour, and he refused to resort to throwing sharpened pencils at the drywall ceiling for amusement. 

He wondered what Ken was doing and if the brunette was nearly as bored as he. Senior Specialist Hidaka was somewhere else in the building, having been whisked away by Nakamura upon arrival that morning. He was pretty sure Ken could handle whatever task he was assigned, but Omi wished he had been able to go over a few more things. Not that it really mattered; their job was a joke. Omi had cleared the first few firewalls in Saoshin's network, an easy thing to do since he had the passwords right there in the training manual. After his nap and then lunch, he'd get to work on digging a little deeper. 

It was safe to assume that the information about Saoshin's partner in MITI was hidden very far down in the file server, if it was there at all. Saoshin had two separate servers. Omi worked one while Ken had the other. Ken's position as the senior member would allow him access to passwords that Omi didn't, thus making his job a little easier. Omi was fairly confident that they could crack the system in the next few days. They would have to in order to keep the mission time frame on schedule. 

At his elbow, the little black phone began to ring. "Hello, Tech Support. How may I help you?" 

"So sorry to bother you, Tsukiyono-san, but we are having some problems with the network hook up for the digital cameras. They don't seem to be feeding into the FX computers. Could you come down here and take a look at them?" 

Omi's heart began to pound. *Cameras* meant *studio.* He knew what type of filming they were doing in the studio. "Sssure, I'll be right down." He said, trying to keep his voice as level as possible. 

Hanging up the phone, he stared at it for a moment before pushing his chair out and getting to his feet, sliding on his suit jacket, making sure the pager on his belt was hidden behind the black fabric. Anyone who looked at it from a distance would have no trouble believing it was a simply a pager. Closer examination would make the small wires that ran underneath his shirt and down his left arm to his wrist. The wire connected to his watch, or rather, to the small transceiver placed in the face of the watch. 

If he was ever asked to tell time, he would be horribly wrong, since the analog hands never left seven-oh-four. The fake watch's signal was boosted by the fake pager's hidden power pack. The wireless headsets Weiß normally used, besides being conspicuous, only had a limited range. In order to make sure the panic button's signal reached Yohji and Aya at least four miles away, they needed a stronger transceiver, which required the use of a separate power source. 

He stepped into the elevator and began the agonizing descent to the basement. 

- - - - - 

Ken watched his department head leave and inclined his head until the older man passed. Slowly, the cubicles around him emptied out, until he was the only one left. His last co-worker gave him a large smile and told him how much he respected Ken for staying so late. An exceptional worker, so new and yet such a dedicated asset to the company, how he wished he could be like Ken. Ken endured the man's praise until he was out of sight, and then turned back to his computer. 

Pulling up the network folder, he accessed the admin network drive and began to poke around in the folders. He was surprised that he had been able to get into the administration's section of the network so quickly; he had expected more security, or at least harder passwords. Of course, Saoshin considered themselves basically immune to prosecution because of their friend in MITI, and they had a hawk-eyed old bat in Kawamura Karen, the Vice-President, so they had no real reason to be concerned. 

Ken's lips quirked up in a sardonic grin as he cleared one more level of folders with a password he was almost sad it had been so simple. Nakamura was a huge sumo fan; it had taken two names before being successful with 'Onokuni.' He had spent his incredibly boring day researching information related to Nakamura and Kawamura that might have proved useful later on and he was relieved the time had not been wasted. 

He searched the files in Nakamura's folder and found nothing except for tax information and company spending charts. Nothing even remotely mentioning MITI, even as a government office. Gnawing on his lower lip and tapping an impatient finger against the mouse, Ken decided that Nakamura was not as predictable as he seemed. Pulling up the properties of the folder, he checked for hidden files and was rewarded with nothing. 

Damn. The files were all useless to Weiß's mission. 

The black phone resting on the desk beside him rang, shattering the silence and Ken jumped out of his seat. Checking the clock, he blinked owlishly at the happy red numbers indicating that he had been sniffing around Nakamura's files for nearly an hour and a half. Picking up the phone, he cradled it between his shoulder and ear as he began to cover his tracks in the system, clearing any trace of his intrusion. "Hello, Tech Support. How can I help you?" He knew who it was, but it did not hurt to be cautious. 

"Hidaka-san? So sorry, I dialed the wrong extension! I was attempting to reach Ishiguro-san's office." Ken smiled against the receiver's mouthpiece at Omi's surprised voice. The boy's typical politeness had been turned up a notch, in case anyone was listening. "I would have thought you had gone home already." 

"Not yet, Tsukiyono-kun. There were still some things I needed to look at." Ken shut down his PC and turned off the monitor. "You're working late as well, Tsukiyono-kun. Trying to look good for the boss?" 

Omi laughed. "Not at all, Hidaka-san. I was just getting ready to leave." 

"Well, I won't keep you then. See you back at the house." 

"Ja ne, Hidaka-san." 

Ken hung up the phone and pulled on his jacket before leaving his cubicle. He was extremely disappointed in his work today. And after the meeting with the rest of Weiß later, he was sure everyone else would be as well. He could only hope Omi could offer something better. 

- - - - - 

"You WHAT?" Yohji's exclamation rattled through the basement as Omi recounted his day. 

Omi took a long breath and tried to shunt his growing irritation. He had made the fastest network repair in the history of the world in order to get the hell out of the studio before having to see any of the filming process and it had still taken him three hours to figure out what was wrong with the cameras. Saoshin used digital cameras because it was easier to work the special effects in, or something to that idea. Omi found it sickeningly ironic. Within the Saoshin studios, the deaths were real, the explosions were not. Usually, it was the other way around. 

"I saw the studio today during a repair job." He said again, this time through gritted teeth. He did not want Yohji's mothering; he was too tired, and too annoyed to deal with it. Aya had already given Ken a thorough dressing down, letting him know exactly how displeased he was at their tardiness. They were still going at it upstairs in the empty flowershop. If it had not been so ridiculous, Omi would have marveled at Aya's sudden loquaciousness. For their leader to talk this much must have meant that the mission was particularly disturbing. 

"God dammit, Aya!!" Ken's furious voice filtered down through the door. Both blondes turned to look up, even though they knew they would see nothing of the brunette or redhead. "You have no skills and Omi can't do it all by himself! If I don't do it, it's not getting done!! Christ, you do your job and let me do mine!" The sound of heavy, hurried footsteps toward the basement door preceded its opening by mere seconds, and then a red-faced, bothered Ken descended the circular staircase, taking two steps at a time. Aya calmly followed, though looking no happier than the younger assassin. 

Ken fell across the couch with a tired grunt, only moving when Yohji prodded him to sit up and make room for someone else. "Okay, so what do we think?" The older blonde asked, giving Omi a look that clearly said he was dropping their earlier conversation for now, but it was in no way forgotten. Omi rolled his eyes in Yohji's direction, making a note to tell Yohji just how much he reminded him of a cranky old woman. 

"My server has nothing." Ken said irritably. "I looked through every file and MITI isn't even mentioned in passing." 

Yohji nodded. "Okay. What about you, Omi?" 

Omi sighed and rubbed at the back of his neck. He could feel the knots growing and all he wanted to do was sleep. "I didn't get a chance to do much with my server today. I got through the first few levels, but the call I got kept me away from my desk most of the afternoon." He favored Yohji a stern glare as the look in the green eyes showed distinct disapproval at the single call he'd received that day. "And I managed to make it useful for us as well. I rerouted the feed so that it has to go through my computer first. I send it off to special effects." He grinned in what he hoped was a devious fashion. "FX is going to have some fun trying to figure out what type of movie they're working on." 

Ken snickered at the idea, Yohji snorted softly, trying to hide his smile. Aya's face was impassive, back to his normal non-expression, violet eyes unrevealing. "How long will it take you to go through the server, Omi?" He asked, voice as blank as the rest of him. 

"Two days, even if I'm swamped with other work. Their security is pathetically easy, but I still have a ways to go before getting to any of the core files." 

"I've got some password advice for you." Ken said, grinning tiredly. "Nakamura's a sumo otaku and Kawamura is into Elvis bars." 

Omi snorted. "Thanks Ken-kun. I just hope it's there." 

  


**Notes:**   
1. Onokuni Yasuhi was the 62nd Yokozuna. The Yokozuna is the highest ranked wrestler in sumo, with the most championships at the time. They usually retire three or four years after attaining the rank. The source I used for info on sumo only listed 63 Yokozuna, so I have no idea how many there are currently. 

2. There are a lot of theme bars in Japan, where the whole layout of the place [including the karaoke ^_^] is devoted to a particular genre [cowboys], time period [the 50s] or person [Elvis]. They are extremely popular places. 

  


Weiß Kreuz is the property of Koyasu Takehito and Project Weiß. 


	4. Chapter Three

**Goraku**

**Chapter Three**

Persia turned slowly in his chair, steepling his fingers together as he gazed at his secretary behind gold rimmed glasses. Manx, for the first time in years, shifted uncomfortably under his scrutiny. Wordlessly, he pushed the black, unlabelled tape across his desk towards her, as he had only days before. Her composure faltered as fearful green eyes watched his every movement. 

"They're not working hard enough." 

Manx's eyebrows shot up in surprise at the rebuke. "I disagree, Commissioner." She said firmly. "The infiltration is going well. Our reports estimate that they should have in information in a matter of days." 

Persia shook his head. "It's not good enough if the target is making more of their product." He picked up the tape and held it out to her. "No more tapes must be produced. I will not tolerate failure this time." A thick finger tapped the hard plastic. "This will be an incentive to have them work faster." 

The redhead blanched. She made no effort to disguise her blatant horror at his suggestion. "No, Commissioner... I can't do that." 

He placed the tape on the desk and folded his hands, watching her carefully. "Kitada, there is no discussion here. You are my second, there's no reason why this is beyond you." 

"Commissioner... Shuuichi... Weiß was given this mission for a reason." Manx's voice was low and tight. "For that reason, I cannot watch any more of that abhorration. And I will not force them to do so either. Bombay--" 

Persia raised a hand to cut her off. "Kitada, I know that first tape was a shock, it was intended to be." He made his tone as neutral and benign as he could. He was sorry he had to put her through this, however he felt guiltier that something like snuff films had made it to Japan. Sorry that innocent people were being killed for mass entertainment, and the magic of video would allow those victims to die over and over again until the tape wore out. "More of these videos will be made if Weiß doesn't complete their mission soon. I want them to know what is at stake if they do not hurry." 

Manx's hands clenched at her side. "You didn't see the looks on their faces." She growled, using the tone of voice for the first time since he had met her. "They know all too well." With that, she turned on her heel and stalked out of the room, leaving the tape on his desk. 

- - - - - 

He knew he was sitting too close to the monitor. His eyes and back ached, and the national Kodo drummers had taken up position in his brain and were happily pounding away. Rechecking the files in Nakamura's server had again come up empty, and Omi's last email told Ken that there was a distinct possibility that the name they were looking for was simply not there. 

Leaning back in the desk chair, Ken closed his eyes and gathered his thoughts. It had to be there somewhere. Relying on memory was risky because memory was far from reliable and the backup technique consisted on telling as many people as possible in case someone forgot. Not the best way to keep the name of secret benefactor secret, especially when illegalities were involved. Hell, it was not even an effective way of keeping a Tanabata wish a secret. 

The mail icon at the lower right hand corner of his monitor popped up, informing him that he had two new messages. Bringing up his inbox, he read the short mail from Yohji. 

==There's a cat in the basement. It's going to end up chewing up all the cables. Must've come in through an open window. Catch it when you get home, will you?== 

Ken rested his chin on his folded hands as he considered the information. They had gotten a call from Manx early that morning; Omi had taken it right before they left for the office. Saoshin had gotten another tape out, and Persia was not pleased with their progress. Part of him wanted to tell Persia exactly where to shove the approval and show their boss exactly what their work entailed. Kawamura still did not trust them, which was not all that surprising, and watched him periodically. However, she left before he did in the evenings, so Ken was free from her prying eyes when it really mattered. 

In order to appease the boss, Aya and Yohji had formulated a plan to take out Saoshin that night, with or without the name. Better to fulfill half of the mission than none of it. Perhaps, given enough time, Kritiker would be able to find the MITI contact. Yohji's message alerted Ken and Omi to Aya's presence in the studio and Ken knew that he did not have much time to find out where the information was. 

The new time limit elevated the tension level in his muscles and his heart began to beat just a little faster as he opened the mail from Omi. 

==It's not here... What now?== 

Ken swore out loud; the profanity echoed through the darkened empty office, resonating like a temple bell. They were in trouble. He could not believe the file was nonexistent, it was impossible. If Nakamura did not keep it in the computer, where would it be? To keep it on a hard copy would be stupid; easily found and copied, no matter how easily the paper could be destroyed. The only other way could be a disk... 

Ken's gaze drifted to his floppy drive and chewed on his lower lip. He was unsure whether to smack himself for being so stupid not to think of it sooner, or to scoff at the possibility. No matter how portable a disk was, it was more dangerous to have because disks were easily damaged, lost, or erased. 

Pushing back from his desk and grabbing a handful of paper clips and a hard drive repair kit, Ken walked down the hallway and left the hive of cubicles, heading for Nakamura's office. As he passed the darkened skywalk, he saw the glittering lights of Tokyo cutting through the darkness, reflecting off of the humid summer haze that would hang over the city for the next few months. 

As expected, the office was locked. Ken straightened a few of the paper clips and pulled out a small flat headed screwdriver most techs used to install network interface cards; he wondered if his predecessor had ever considered using it to break into the boss' office. Sliding the thin wire of metal into the keyhole, he moved it around slowly, looking for the lock trigger. The years of assassin training made locating it simple and Ken inserted the screwdriver and turned the lock, opening the door without so much as a creak. He picked up the remainder of the tools and slipped inside the empty office. 

- - - - - 

"Yo, Abyssinian, are you done yet?" 

Aya turned a hostile frown in the direction of his wrist transceiver. Yohji had been bothering him for at least an hour, asking every so often if all the charges were set. "Not yet. If you would leave me alone, I would be finished much faster." 

"Yare, yare..." Yohji muttered distractedly. "No word from either of them yet." 

Now Aya knew the older man was attempting to fill the silence. Unfortunately, bringing up the topic of the other two was the worst possible topic, aside from asking Aya about his sister. Growling under his breath, Aya taped another bundle of C-4 to a support pillar. 

Omi had assured him that if every support blew, there was no need to put anything up in the rafters. What Omi had failed to mention was that the film studio had a hell of a lot of support pillars. But the Weiß tactician had planned for it and had given Aya enough explosives to take down the Big Egg. 

Wrapping the duct tape around the final bundle of C-4, Aya wiped his brow with the back of his gloved hand and took a moment to look around before collecting his trenchcoat and katana. The studio was set up for a morning commercial shoot for some kind of video game based around an unnaturally cute Sanrio toy. However, all of the smiling froglike characters and bright yellow plastic could not eliminate the oppressive, heavy atmosphere that smelled of death, a cloying sweet stench that lingered on his own skin. People such as he worked here, but what made them different, he could only hope, was that they took pleasure in their work where Aya detested his. 

He could only hope that that difference would keep him out of the same level of Hell that these people went to when they died. 

"Yo, Abyssinian--" 

"Mission accomplished, Balinese." Aya snapped. "I'm on my way out. Maintaining comm silence until then." 

"Ha~ai, oh fearless leader." 

Aya forced down an irritated sigh as he turned off the transceiver and picked up his coat. He slung it over his shoulder and took his katana in hand, moving toward the loading dock door. He had broken the lock to get in, and did not care so much about covering his tracks. When he was out of the building, he would wait for the acknowledgement that Ken and Omi were out of the building and then blow the place to Hell where it belonged. 

A slither of movement caught his eye as he approached the door. Pushing his katana slightly out of its scabbard with his thumb, Aya prepared to draw his blade and continued walking. The figure darted in between him and the door, clothed completely in black and covered with a Bunraku puppeteer mask. Dropping his coat, Aya fell back into a defensive stance and pulled out his blade. It glinted in the miniscule overhead lighting. 

Aya did not give his opponent the opportunity to attack and charged first, blade pulled back so that the blade ran behind him and parallel to the floor. He leapt forward the last meter or so, and the sword sang as it sliced through the air in a wide sweep, cutting the black clothed man in half. 

Aya switched on the transceiver as he was rammed into from behind, throwing him off balance and knocking the katana from his hand. Swinging his right arm around for a hard back fist, he connected solidly with his second assailant's hand. 

The new opponent was much larger than the first, which led Aya to believe, in the few seconds he had before a meaty hand buried itself into his stomach, knocking the wind from him, that the first had been a decoy. 

The heel of his opponent's palm connected with his temple, and Aya was hurled into unconsciousness. 

- - - - - 

==The cat's almost out; it's safe to come home now. You won't have to worry about your allergies.== 

Omi sighed half in relief, half in dread at Yohji's message. Ken had yet to return his mail, but he assumed it was because the brunette had no idea what to do either. Gathering his jacket, he got ready to leave. 

As sorry as he was that they failed to obtain the MITI contact, the sense of defeat was overshadowed by his nearly overwhelming desire to see the building crumble, collapsing onto the Hollywood of horror that lay beneath it. 

- - - - - 

Nakamura's office seemed larger when empty, lit only by the large bay window behind the desk that gave a breathtaking view of Tokyo Tower and all its lights. 

Ken shut the door and locked it before crossing the white carpet to the pinewood desk. He ignored the laptop computer on the desktop after searching it for a 3.5-inch disk or a data storage CD, preferring to dig through the desk drawers. 

At the bottom of the last drawer, under a huge pile of stock analyses and pending contracts, Ken found a black, unlabelled floppy in a worn plastic slipcover. He held his breath as he inserted the disk into the laptop and booted up the system. The OS password was again 'Onokuni' and Ken was able to access the disk. There was a single text document, labeled 'stuff.' Smirking at the choice of label, Ken opened the file. 

He read the unattributed name three times before allowing himself to grin in triumph. Fujiyuri Shigeru, Todai graduate and one of the most powerful members of the Ministry of International Trade and Industry was the dark beast sponsoring snuff films. All the newspapers speculated that Fujiyuri would be up for the head of the Jigen Party next election. It would only be a small step from there to the office of Prime Minister. 

Ken popped the disk out of the drive and shut the laptop down. The LMP would just have to find another candidate. This one's term was up. 

  


**Notes:**   
1. Bunraku is Japanese puppet theatre. These puppeteers use these huge puppets to tell traditional stories. The puppeteers dress completely in black and wear masks that are made of a see-through material that cover their entire face. Though this outfit doesn't necessarily make them blend into the background, it gives the audience a signal that they are unimportant to the story and that they should be ignored. 

2. Todai is the nickname of Tokyo University. Around ninety percent of Japanese politicians and bureaucrats graduate from three or four well-known universities and all of them are in Tokyo. In Japan, your job skills don't matter to employers, since most of the job training is done by the company you are hired by [it gives you a specialization and makes it harder to change jobs because of limited skills. it also builds company loyalty] only a diploma from a good school is important. College students don't tend to do much work, since all the work they do is related to getting into the university. University is considered to be a last hurrah for young people before entering the workplace and having to conform to societal rules. 

3. Fujiyuri Shigeru and the Jigen Party (LMP) don't exist. I made up Fujiyuri, and Jigen was in the series. It's the same party that elected Takatori Reiji prime minister, so I thought it was fitting. Incidentally, Jigen's abbreviation, LMP, is only one letter off from the LDP [Liberal Democratic Party], which is the actual ruling party in Japan now. They're called Liberal, but they're actually very conservative. Go figure. 

  


Weiß Kreuz is the property of Koyasu Takehito and Project Weiß. 


	5. Chapter Four

**Goraku**

**Chapter Four**

Omi hung up the phone after waiting on hold for twenty minutes trying to get in touch with someone in Kritiker. Manx's cell phone was not responding, a rarity for the redhead even when they were not in a mission situation. He had been waiting for a secretary at the police station to connect him with his uncle, but the rather slow-witted man had been unable to tell Omi where Persia was or if he was even still in the office. Across the room, Yohji was trying a different contact's number, a woman named Birman who was only to be called if Manx was absolutely unreachable. 

The basement door burst open and an exuberant figure in a dark suit came flying down the stairs. Reflexively, Omi had three shurinken in hand before the figure made it to the bottom of the staircase and was recognized as Ken. 

"I got it!!" The brunette crowed, waving a black disk around and grinning like a maniac. Yohji whapped him on the back of the head and motioned for him to be quiet. Once Ken had glared at him and lowered his voice, Yohji resumed speaking into the phone. 

"What's going on?" Ken asked Omi as he loosened his tie. 

Omi leaned closer as Yohji listened carefully to whatever the person on the other line was saying. "Saoshin's still standing, and we haven't heard anything from Aya-kun." 

Ken's eyes widened. "Has anyone called Manx?" 

"We've been trying, but no one is picking up. Even Persia isn't around." Omi gestured in Yohji's direction. "Yohji-kun's trying our backup contact now." 

"Backup? Oh, that 'Birman' woman?" 

Omi nodded. Ken cursed softly, turning the disk over in his hands. Omi gently took it from his hands before he inadvertently broke it. "You got the name, Ken-kun?" The reliable, calm mode kicked in and it was back to business. Sometimes, Omi hated being the rational one who focused on the mission first, but other times --like now-- he was glad for it. 

"Yeah," Ken muttered, distracted. "It was in Nakamura's office. Their contact is Fujiyuri Shigeru." 

"You're joking." Omi was surprised by the information and not afraid to show it. Someone up that high in the food chain funding something so heinous with government money was almost unimaginable. Fujiyuri was considered by most to be as straight edged as politicians came. He was one of the few politicians who acknowledged the people and did not simply pander to the bureaucrats. Deceiving so many innocent people was unforgivable. 

Ken shook his head. "Nope, Fujiyuri's the asshole in this one." 

Yohji snapped his cell phone shut and pinched the bridge of his nose, his glasses long gone, abandoned to the coffee table. "Well, Manx is on her way." 

"Manx-san?" Omi looked skeptically at the older man. "Where was she?" 

Yohji pulled out a cigarette and rolled it between his fingers. "Birman didn't say. Just that she's coming over right now." The cell phone flew in a gentle arc, landing with a bounce on the green couch cushion. "Should be here in ten minutes or so." 

"What happened to Aya, Yohji?" 

"How the fuck should I know?" The blonde demanded, dark green eyes flashing. "We had comm silence until he got out because that's how the mighty leader wanted it! All I know is that he hasn't signaled yet and there's no way it should be taking him this long!" 

"Yohji, calm down," Ken held up his hands placatingly. "I didn't know." 

"That's what you get for being late." Yohji snapped around his now-lit cigarette. "Where the hell were you anyway?" 

Omi watched Ken's jaw tighten while Yohji continued to nag. The brunette was not a patient one, and whatever leeway he was granting the older blonde was quickly slipping away. Whenever Ken clenched his fists, he was determined to make use of them. "I was working, dickhead!" 

"We have the name of the MITI contact, Yohji-kun." Omi interjected. 

Some of the tension lines in Yohji's face smoothed away as the news sunk in. The news probably also saved the basement room's expensive equipment from being victimized by a fight between the two older members of Weiß. "Fantastic." Yohji said, flopping down on the couch and taking a long draw off of his cigarette. "We'll just turn it over to Manx when she gets here and then go after Aya." 

"I don't think we should wait for her." 

Both Omi and Yohji glanced at Ken apprehensively. "You nuts, Kenken?" Yohji asked, peering at the brunette from over the back of the couch. "Persia will have a conniption fit… not to mention our heads if we don't tell her about this." 

Ken sat on the bottom stair and rested his elbows on his knees. "When Manx tells him, what do you think our orders will be? Persia doesn't give a damn about us and you know it; all that matters is the mission." 

The determined look on Ken's face snuffed any protest Omi may have made in defense of his uncle. Omi was well aware that he was the only person in Weiß who considered Takatori Shuuichi to be a decent human being, despite the fact that he had sent Omi to kill his two brothers. It had taken him time, but Omi saw the necessity of the assignment. Compared to Hirofumi and Masafumi, Persia was a saint. 

However, Omi was willing to believe that Fujiyuri's death meant more to anyone in Kritiker than Aya's life. 

Yohji tapped the ash off of his cigarette into the coffee cup that served as a makeshift ashtray. "So, what do you suggest we do?" 

"You and Omi take care of Fujiyuri and I'll go get Aya. Fujiyuri's famous; it's not as if it'll be hard to find him." 

Omi nodded hesitantly, seeing the logic in Ken's plan. "True enough, but where are you going to look for Aya-kun?" 

Ken tossed him a grin that looked more like a grimace. "Take a wild guess." 

- - - - - 

A short love note from Yohji and an envelope greeted Manx when she arrived at the empty flowershop. Turning the finely printed paper over in her hands, she tried to understand what was going on, and why Weiß was acting on their own. The second question was simple enough; their first instinct was to protect their own, so they had to be off on some half-cocked attempt to rescue Aya. 

The note and the envelope still refused to make sense, however. ~Sorry to have missed such a lovely lady. Here's a story in exchange.~ 

And 'exchange' was underlined. She opened the envelope and inside was a clipping from an old Asahi Shimbun. Skimming the article, she found several letters underlined, many of them being 'i's 'u's an 'f' and an 's', among others. Manx ran her fingers over the writing, deep in thought. Another word for 'exchange' was 'trade.' Manx's eyes widened as the pieces fell into place. They had managed to find Saoshin's sponsor in MITI. 

After several moments of cursing Weiß's sick sense of humor and piecing together the letters into something that did not resemble a word for pickled radishes, Manx gritted her teeth angrily. The circled letters spelled "Fujiyuri Shigeru." Shredding the paper in her hands and dumping it down a sewer grate, Manx stared off down the street, maybe subconsciously looking for a glimpse of Yohji's roadster or Ken's motorcycle. "Good luck, Weiß." She murmured to the empty neighborhood, knowing that they would need all the luck available for their two missions. 

- - - - - 

Aya knew from past experience that there were worse ways of being woken than being kicked in the arm, but they were few and far between. Forcing his eyes open, he fought down a wave of nausea as his vision was stabbed with hideously bright lights. His head ached so badly he could barely think. He was bound hand and foot, his arms secured tightly behind his back, a chain linking the handcuffs to a pair of shackles on his ankles. The bonds served to keep him in a kneeling position, his back arched painfully. 

Breathing in short, ragged gasps that served to bring him more pain, he attempted to focus on the sea of formless noise swirling around him. With more concentration, he identified different pitches and inflection, and decided that he was hearing voices. The next step would be to attempt to understand them. 

His intense focus was interrupted by a hand grabbing his chin roughly, turning his face to meet the malicious gaze of a slightly overweight woman who would have been attractive save for her uncanny resemblance to a hawk ready to devour its prey. She favored him with a chilling smile of satisfaction when she was sure his attention was solely on her. 

"I'm sure you know how much damage you would have caused, had we not caught you, my little samurai." Her eyes sparkled. "Doubtless that was part of your plan." 

The woman let go of his chin and Aya felt his back muscles spasm. Biting back a cry, he followed her with his eyes as she circled him. He noticed for the first time how many people were in the room, and how many of them were behind cameras. Images of the snuff film rocketed through his memory and his heart began to pound. 

She finished her circle and stepped out of his field of vision. "I don't know who you work for, little samurai, and I know you will not tell me. So I turn you over to Makiko's capable hands." 

Aya hissed as a blindfold was laid across his eyes, plunging the world into a noisy blackness. It was in many ways more frightening than being able to see the sound stage. 

More frightening when he did not expect the agonizing metal kiss of the blade until it pressed into his side and made a slow journey across his abdomen. 

- - - - - 

Yohji had determined years ago that the world was not controlled by men, gods or anything else humankind had used to define the natural order of things. The rule which guided existence was no rule at all, and the only masters of the universe were chaos and entropy. A person could expect something to happen, and while all the evidence pointed to it being plausible, something would be pushed just slightly out of place to create a situation that was completely unexpected. 

For instance, both he and Aya had expected something to happen to Omi and Ken, with them being forced to stand on the sidelines and do nothing. Aya being apprehended was out of the question. Yohji had also surmised that Fujiyuri's highrise apartment building would be difficult to break into, considering the twenty-four hour doorman and various expensive alarms. 

However, dressed as they were, Omi in his black suit and Yohji in a professional-looking navy sportjacket and khakis, the doorman failed to stop them as they walked inside. When the elevator doors closed and they began their long ascent to the fiftieth floor, Yohji's mind was focused solely on the death of the corrupt politician Fujiyuri Shigeru. 

Omi, however, was more interested in the security system that protected the minister's home. The younger blonde pulled a small wire-cutting kit from the black jacket's inside pocket and fished around for the proper tools. 

A soft tone accompanied the gentle rocking of the elevator car as it settled on the penthouse floor, doors sliding open with nary a sound. The two assassins were equally silent as they found apartment five-oh-eight-nine and prepared themselves to do what they did best. 

  


Weiß Kreuz is the property of Koyasu Takehito and Project Weiß. 


	6. Chapter Five

**Goraku**

**Chapter Five**

Bugnuks already released and ready to find a target, Ken treaded lightly across the catwalk fifteen feet above the studio floor, selecting a spot to start handing out the punishment from. He could barely distinguish the red of Aya's hair from the crimson blood that covered the bound and blindfolded man. How Aya could possibly keep from screaming was something Ken could not fathom. The sadistic woman using Aya's katana to slowly carve him up licked his blood from one of her delicate hands, moaning throatily, as if it were some kind of turn on. Ken nearly threw up. 

The spectators seemed extremely happy with the way their impromptu seppuku was playing out, although he could hear some grumbling about it moving too slowly. Ken singled out one of them to kill first. Jumping down from the catwalk, he hit the man with a bone-crushing force, allowing the target to absorb all of the impact. The people around him watched in shock as he slashed the man's throat with his claw, stood, and turned to face them. 

Though they were probably more familiar with death than Ken himself, the studio crew of Saoshin Productions were not fighters in the least. Ken dispatched five out of the twenty people in the room before most of them knew what was happening. Diving forward to put himself between them and Aya, Ken quickly hacked at the cheap metal of the handcuffs and caught the redhead as he pitched forward. 

"Abyssinian, can you hear me?" 

"Ken?" Aya's voice barely registered as a whisper. Ken shushed him and took off the blindfold, revealing disoriented, feverish eyes. The biggest shock was the tears that fell from them as they closed in unconsciousness. Ken's insides clenched with anger. 

"Hang on, okay? I'm going to get you out of here." Ken murmured as he laid Aya on the floor before rising and brandishing his claw at the people around them. One of them charged from the left, and Ken just let him run straight into the claw before twisting the blades and shoving the corpse aside. 

Despite his fighting spirit and training, Ken found himself extremely outnumbered. He could not leave Aya alone and defenseless, otherwise he would have launched head first into the crowd. The only way to keep his promise to the redhead would be to stay with him. On a whim, he picked up Aya's discarded katana and held it in front of him, swinging it awkwardly at one of the crewmembers that got too close. 

The blade connected with the man's leg, and the angle of impact nearly bent Ken's wrist completely backward. Hissing in pain, he pulled the blade backward and grit his teeth as he began to wish he had come to Saoshin with some kind of plan. 

The feeling of dread increased as he heard a gunshot go off. He looked around quickly, wondering who was going to be the one to shoot him. 

- - - - - 

The gunshots startled everyone on the studio floor, including the man she had come to help. Ken looked up at her with wide eyes. "Manx!" 

Wordlessly, the redheaded woman fired into the diminished crowd, falling at least five more people before her clip ran out. For his own part, Ken discarded Aya's sword and lashed out fully at the remaining attackers, killing them all. "Where are the others?" 

"They're back at the shop, waiting for you." 

"And Fujiyuri?" 

With a reproachful smile, Manx shook her head. "You should know better than to doubt your team mates' abilities." 

Ken beamed and tossed something in her direction. Catching it easily, Manx found it to be the trigger for the charges that still adorned the pillars of the studio. It had already been pushed. They had a little less than five minutes to get out. Ken turned from her, focusing on moving the bleeding and battered Aya. Gently, he picked up the redhead, though visibly staggering under the weight of the older man, and headed for the stairs. Manx left the catwalk and descended to the floor in order to give him a hand. 

"Using Aya's katana when you have no training. Smart thinking Ken." Manx said wryly as she slung Aya's other limp arm over her shoulder. She and Ken raced to climb the stairs and clear the building before it went up. 

The embarrassed blush crept up on the brunette's face as they kept running. "I didn't have much at my disposal." 

"How were you planning on getting back to the shop?" Manx asked, and was granted nothing but petulant silence in return. "You didn't have a plan at all when you went in, did you?" Despite their current situation and Aya's condition, Manx could not help finding the boy's actions amusing. She allowed herself the first laughter she had had in a week, much to Ken's dismay. 

"I'm not the one who makes the plans, okay?" He snapped shakily over her chuckling. "If something needs to be done, I do it." 

"Very admirable, Ken." Manx grunted as Ken shoved Aya's unconscious body completely in her arms as he opened the door to the first floor exit. She struggled under the dead weight and had to half drag the redhead out into the expansive lobby. For a moment, she caught the brunette's gaze and wiped the blood off his cheek with the back of her hand. "What would come of all that heroism if you'd both been killed?" 

Ken seemed unable to answer her, and with downcast eyes, pulled Aya onto his back and started to run for the door. Manx followed, the charge release her hand reading t-minus one minute, thirty seconds. 

Once outside the building, Manx directed Ken to her car and the two of them managed to settle Aya in the backseat and leave the building behind just as a huge explosion rocked the whole street. Twisting around in his seat, Ken watched the Saoshin building burn with a blank expression. From the corner of her eye, Manx caught the relief seep into the teal eyes that looked from the flames to Aya in the backseat then back up again. When he spoke, Manx had to strain to hear him. 

"Mission accomplished." 

Keeping her eyes on the road, she reached over and laid a hand on his shoulder. She was proud of Weiß's performance on this mission, proud of how they protective they had become of each other, and she was proud of the ridiculously careless man next to her for not letting anyone make their lives seem less than what they were worth. 

The world was not a wonderful place; that was true. But the dark beasts had not completely taken over yet. 

END 

  


Weiß Kreuz is the property of Koyasu Takehito and Project Weiß. 


End file.
